Pages

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Sorry I've been MIA, but getting ready for a trip to Vietnam and move to Shanghai has completely consumed me.

I'm in Hong Kong right now, just a 2 and half hour, then 1 hour flight to the orphanage where our darling 22-month old is. I can't wait to meet him, and every time I even think about it tears well up in my eyes. I have to focus on him, though, and if I cry it might scare him, and I want him to love me, love me, love me!

More later - flight is boarding soon, but I didn't want my infertile friends to think I was ignoring them. Tomorrow is a day I've been dreaming of for five years.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

I have the best girlfriends in the world. And the ones that I'm specifically referring to are three that I've known since high school, one that I've known since college and one that I have known for 30 years - since the first grade.

And, last night they gave me a surprise mini-baby shower/travel send off. It was totally unexpected, but very typical of how they are. I've ranted about how I've never gotten a shower before, but this erased all of that.

For the last 15+ years, we have been each others cheerleaders, crutches, and confidants. We've held each other's hair back when we've thrown up from drinking too much; we've slammed on ex-boyfriends who wrongly broke up with us; we've stood at the alter for each other during our weddings; and we've wept with joy at the births of children (or the lack thereof). These are my ya-ya sisters (and my sister fits this category too, for sure - but raving about her deserves a whole other posting).

And, I know that, if we're fornuate enough to bring our baby boy home from Vietnam, they'll be waiting at the airport to welcome him to his new home, and they're a huge part of that -- my home.

To my amazing girlfriends, I love you dearly and life is better because of you.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Has anyone else seen a preview for this ridiculous show? Or better yet, did you watch it? I mean, c'mon.

Apparently, an estimated 15,000 monkeys live as surrogate children within American families (at least according to a celebrity news Web site that I just checked out). And, My Monkey Baby is a new reality show on TLC that features a few families who live with the capuchins as if they are their own children. I have only seen the previews, but that's more than enough for me to pass some judgment.

I will fully admit that I love my pets as much (if not more) than most people love their children, and quite frankly, I don't see anything wrong with that, within reason. But, I do not dress up my cats in baby clothes, put my dog in a baby carriage and stroll her around as if she's a child (though at 65 lbs. I'm not sure she'd fit in one) or have a nursery just for my kitties. However, these people do those things and many, many others for their monkeys.

I may want a child pretty darn badly, but please, please, please, I beg you to force me to see a therapist, if I ever have thoughts of taking a monkey into a Gymboree.

For me, this is beyond bizarre. But, apparently the concept for the show started in Great Britain and did well enough that the US has its own version now. I'm telling you, if people want to see some good drama, they should videotape women stabbing their stomachs with fertility drugs or their husbands jabbing a huge needle into their wives' butts. Then show the crazy mood swings that ensue. Or, they could show how we hit rock bottom when we get the phone call from the lab that our beta is 0. Now that's TV I'd watch.

Friday, October 2, 2009

I love my boobs. I really do. They're not big at all, just about an A cup. They don't get in the way of me running, horseback riding, and don't give me back aches like the big-chested gals. And unlike most of my girlfriends who have had babies and complain about saggy or deflated boobs, mine are still quite perky (see there is a benefit to not giving birth, after all).

However, the one reason they drive me crazy is when they fake me out by giving me some slight glimmer of hope that I'm pregnant. They don't hurt every month just before AF, only occasionally, and it's those times where I question my infertility and think that maybe this time the sperm and egg were able to meet.

This happened recently to a good friend of mine, too, who is also a fellow infertile. She said her boobs were super sore, and thought that was the tell-tale sign that she might be pregnant, but it wasn't to be.

What gives, tatas?

Sorry for being such a delinquent blogger. I will probably not be updating too frequently between now and the beginning of Nov as we're getting ready for our move and my trip to Vietnam, but I will try, even if they're for short little bits of funniness or irony through this crazy life with infertility.